


落ちるまで -Memento Mori

by ritterlich



Category: Ghost Hunt
Genre: Gen, Ghost Hunters, Immortality, Not Human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:20:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4883557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritterlich/pseuds/ritterlich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Taniyama Mai" was only one of the thousands of names that she took upon by the passing years. She was an inexplicable existence— one that death never laid its fingers on. But why does her private clock starts ticking when she gets included in the SPR team?</p>
            </blockquote>





	落ちるまで -Memento Mori

**i.** **永世** **  
** _"We are immortal until our work on earth is done."_

Humans are ugly beings.

War. Destruction. Steal. Betray. Kill. Countless and countless of monstrous devilry, that I stopped counting anymore. I asked myself if it was worth it, and most of me answered that it wasn't. It's a continuation—a repetition—hoping for them to stop their vileness is unfeasible. For all I know, the universe would reach the end of its life but they will not change. I know of this, because they didn't. After thousands of thousands of years that I watched over them, they were still despicable as they had first started.

From Hominidae to being a Homo sapiens. They had been animals at the basic and primitive level—competing with the other animals for food resources, for social supremacy, and for other things that are imperative for survival. But their intelligence was vast in comparison to any being. They were the pinnacle of the food chain, and because of this, they grew conceited and supercilious.

I was a human. I stopped being one without my consent. At the beginning, I lamented over this fact, but after years of beholding, I could only shake my head at my innocent tomfoolery.

I was born to a family that sustained itself by the clear waters of a river, fruits from trees, and animals that strayed on our village's turf. We worshipped any god, and were grateful when they blessed us with auxiliary supplies. We were happy, but tranquil guilelessness never lasts. Something—no, _someone_ out there would surely destroy the peacefulness, and everything is reduced to nothing.

As I would have expected, the humans flourished immensely. Very Ironic, really. Such a shame that the only thing that evolved was the physical aspect; never did the temperament.

I went with many names, and the name that I originally had was long forgotten, buried in the compiling sands of time. I died plenty as well, but the next day after my death, I would find myself lying on some place that would probably be at least millions of kilometers from the location of my death, and I collect myself in a second and move on. I just understood that brooding over the fact of the possible resurrection is pointless. I was able to learn this in a long way, because really, what could stop curiosity?

I had been many things—waitress, shoe polisher, nurse, maid—but I would quit after a year or two since they would notice that I do not age, and eventually the fact that I do not die as well. No matter how deep the bonds went, I still left. And I continued to, no matter how painful.

Of course, I have already thought of the probability that I was not the only one who is—as humans labeled—an immortal. From this day on, I still remain to wonder. I could have passed them on the busy streets, could have dined with them on the same restaurant, could have suffered with them on the same slum—could have been only meters away from them and lose the chance to meet my own kind.

* * *

**ii.** **朋友** **  
** _"The best helping hand you will ever receive is the one at the end of your own arm."_

Before I knew it, the world had revolved too much and I was already in the 20th century, trying to find my own sanctuary by blending with humans. I worked as a hair stylist in Hong Kong, and the profession, being a work that I have done numerous of times, was not at all hard.

What made it hard was when I cut a little boy's hair and he told me that I looked familiar. And as if the curtains of his mind opened, he clapped his hands and said that I looked exactly like the woman together with his great-great-great grandmother in an old photograph in the 18th century. I waved a hand at him, joking that I couldn't have possibly lived that long, and my mind raced and leaped, tearing memories by memories, attempting to locate the ones where I left any evidences, like taking a photograph.

And sure, there was. I, who have avoided being projected in something of permanence, had my photo taken with a beautiful little girl that I served as a babysitter once. Her family was of Japanese origin, and they migrated in Hong Kong due to her father's work. _Koujo_ , I remember. They were the Koujo family.

The girl, Asuka Koujo, was sickly, therefore she was not permitted to go outside to play or even make friends with children her own age. Her only companion was me. I told her bed time stories as she dozed off to sleep, I cooked her treats as she ate them with enthusiasm, I consoled her when she cried because her parents could not go home in Christmas, and we laughed together, making snowmen and returning to her house when I saw how she trembled because of the coldness.

After three years, I knew it was time to go, and when I informed her, she became a crying mess that I didn't know how to comfort. She clutched tightly on my sleeve and refused to let go. It took hours to calm her down, and when she did, she insisted that we should take a photograph together. And viewing this as my only ticket for freedom, I granted her final wish.

True to my suspicions, when I asked the little boy what his name was, he told me that his name was Koujo Lin. When he asked me what mine was, I told him the disposable name I currently am called as. The child smiled in recognition and I nodded, quite happy to be able to meet a blood relative of my old and late friend.

* * *

**iii.** **怪奇** **  
** _"Sometimes, when you pray for a miracle, God gives you two."_

Approximately ten years after that when I met the boy once again. He had grown taller, his muscles tight against his dress shirt, his hair longer, and he sported a serious expression. I was adopted by a wealthy family, and was urged to go to a formal party with them, and I did. I saw no room for refusal, since I was technically freeloading despite the adopted status.

Koujou Lin was no longer the little boy he used to be. He was now a handsome teenager that stood proudly and gallantly, sweeping off most of the girls that attended the party and making them swoon.

I didn't miss the two tiny figures beside him. Two identical boys displaying two different expressions: one was smiling kindly, and the other was scowling, as if the last thing that he wanted in his life was to be in the party. I chuckled at this. I think it's pretty cute.

My guard, after years of years of polishing it, was on a level incomparable for a human to develop. With heightened senses and agile movements, I could most likely decapitate all the guests in the ball room. Overpowered, but it should be expected. I deemed physical proficiency a must after dying for god-knows how many. Pain is still pain, and dying is a torrent of pain submerging every sensation I have. Experiencing it every fourth a century coaxed me to train so that I could become competent in _not dying_.

Which is why, when I felt the lace of my gown being tugged upon without my awareness, I almost went full-throttle mode. Fortunately, I was able to stop myself and seeing that it was just a child, a sigh of relief escaped my lips. The child, as I can recognize, was the one standing beside Koujo Lin, one of the twins who had the kind smile.

I bent down and asked him what was the matter, and all the while displaying his benign smile, he told me that I wasn't human. I was stupefied at this. I was about to retort a lie when he interrupted and said that he can tell and that I don't need to worry.

I delved in silence and so did he. I really didn't know what to say, and seemingly able to notice my incapability of speech at the moment, he patted me on the shoulder and stated that we will meet once again, through a different circumstance, different time and different place.

I didn't pry any longer. I scooted towards my older brother (from the family who adopted me) and asked who the kid was. Very much obliged, he answered "Eugene Davis".

I left the family after a year and a half in the middle of the night. I was conscious of my older brother's presence—undoubtedly teary eyed since he seemed very fond of me as his little sister—gazing at me from his room as I waded through the thick bushes. But he didn't call out or do anything to stop me from leaving. I know that he knew that someday I would be leaving them. And I know that deep inside him, he wanted to meet me again. Honestly, I feel the exact same thing.

* * *

**iv.** **寂然** **  
** _"People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges."_

I arrived on Japan a month before the school officially started. I grasped the opportunity and enrolled myself—again, with my fake background and fake name. Everything went smoothly, and I was immediately surrounded by heaps of friends. Friends who knew nothing about what I am truly. Not that I paid any attention over it. Human life is short after all, they won't understand even if I elaborate my situation even to the tiniest detail.

I was in my second year of High School when I met a little girl that horribly reminded me of Asuka. Pitch black shoulder cut, straight bangs, squinted yet adorable orbs of gray, complexion as pale as the snow that cascaded her now turning a slight pinkish skin—She was exactly like Asuka Koujo as I remembered her to be.

That might have been the reason why I immediately made my way to her and situated my palms against my knees as I stooped forward. I greeted her with an awkward but soft "Hi" and asked her why she was crying. She looked up from her ball of fists that she used to rub her eyes with and spoke of how everyone called her weird just because she can see things others can't.

In my mind, I was able to nail it to the conclusion that the child had some deep connection with the supernatural. "Fortitudo est credere." I said," Strength comes from believing." I told her to not be affected by the taunts, and believe that the object of her sadness could be turned into her weapon.

Her cries intensify, but she was now smiling, as if she had been waiting for someone to tell her those words.

"Hara Masako." She suddenly blurts out when her mother came to pick her up. I was startled at the introduction, and from her mother's expression, I could tell that she was beyond surprised as well. "What's your name, Big Sister?"

Like I did with Koujo Lin, I introduced myself with the name I was not born with, and like him, she smiled in recognition. The girl's mother bowed to me, I could tell that she was grateful and happy, all the same. I was then lead to believe that Masako must have socially withdrawn herself to protect what's left of her. And I understood her, because the moment I realized that death meant nothing to me, I shut myself out since I was afraid to be hurt.

That's when Acceptance comes in to play.

* * *

**v.** **追** **求**  
_"Find what makes your heart sing and create your own music."_

By the summer of my third year, the identity that I possessed was discarded as I traveled towards a country side, intending to repeat first year in High School. It was a place where everybody knows everyone, and they were all but nice people. They made mistakes, but they admitted to it honestly. That was when I thought of a serious reconsideration of generalizing the human race.

"Errare humanum est." I whispered, sitting in an unrefined manner—arms hung on the edge of the bench, back arched forward, head tilted upwards and legs spread, despite the uniform's skirt being an inch above the knee.

"To err is human. That's latin, right?"A voice supplied, and I rolled to the side to have a clear look of who was it that spoke. He was a man, who in appearance, looked older than I am (not that I was any _younger_ than he is), wearing a what I could make out as a monk's outfit. Although his long, bleached and messy hair said otherwise.

The man then asked me what my name was, and naturally, I offered him the new name I took upon. He then introduced himself as "Takigawa Houshou".

He remarked that I was unique, since there were very few Japanese who knew Latin or how to speak it. I didn't tell him that I know how to understand, speak or write it with fluency. Unnecessary suspicion is inessential. Latin had been the global lingua franca before English and I personally lived in Latin-speaking countries, thereupon, not learning it is inexcusable.

We conversed for a short period before a bald elderly man wearing the same monk clothes called the teen away for some business. Houshou Takigawa told me that he'll catch up with me later, but after a few days, I heard from the neighbors that he ran away from home to pursue music.

I stopped expecting to see him again.

* * *

**vi.** **決別** **  
** _"You can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one."_

It only took me nine months before I left the countryside. It might have caused panic, because all they know was that I went for a walk, and then I never came back. Leaving, in an aspect of being difficult because of luggage and personal belongings, was never hard for me. I don't bring any when I leave except for money and the clothes that I wore when I do the deed.

I took a train to Osaka, and after the 5th time of switching trains, I arrived there on dawn. I know of one thing at the moment, and that is, I was running out of money. I was positive that I couldn't even afford an inn. After a minute of thinking, I made a beeline towards a nearby Catholic church.

Bashfulness is out of question when desperate. That was what I was right now. _Desperate_. I told the head priest that I have no money to lodge off in an inn, and that may I _please please please_ stay at the church before I could find a job and have the capital to supply myself. Gazing at me as if I was a 15 year old orphan, the priest acquiesced without much delay and even offered that I could stay at the church for the time being, since they would appreciate a helping hand.

I eagerly took the offer.

Taking care of children is draining, but partly enjoyable. I found my place surrounded by children of any ages—playing, laughing, baking cookies, unwrapping gifts—letting myself be dragged by the children's purity and integrity, I would say that it's pretty much worth the trouble.

After two weeks, a new child joined us. Just like me, he stayed on the church. He was a foreigner, and from the accent that I could make out when he spoke English, he was Australian. Later, I found out that his name was "John Brown". He was a few years younger than my appearance, probably around thirteen or fourteen. Despite of the language barrier between him and the other kids, he could still have a pleasant time with them.

I would often see him with a beginner Japanese book in his hand after a whole month of staying at the church. The children noticed this too and prompted to teach him Japanese in an Osaka accent. Nonetheless, they still had a difficult time. When he opened the book once again after we ate dinner, I watched behind him.

He tried to pronounce a few words that came off as slanged Japanese, showing a determined expression afterwards. Optimism, I noted, was clearly the child's best quality. I then corrected him at the pronunciation basis.

I could see the way he gaped when I began teaching him about the Japanese diction using his own language and accent with articulation. What I liked about the whole ordeal was how he didn't ask, but instead began nodding his head off and taking notes to my teachings. His nights of learning continued and it took a week and a half before he could speak lucidly—rather fast, if I may say so.

It was mid-day at the end of October that I bid my farewell to the head priest. He was dumbfounded because it was the first time that I said anything related about it, and on the exact day of the departure nonetheless. He persuaded me to stay—to at least say good bye to the other kids.

"Ultra posse nemo obligatur. Leaving is a part of my life, Father. Thank you for letting me stay." I said, and then my cue to exit their lives was up.

* * *

**vii.** **希望** **  
**_"Efforts and courage are not without purpose and direction."_

The following months were a journey with an aimless destination.

I stayed place to place and left after a week or two. Most of the people I've encountered thought that I was in vacation or that I've ran away from home. I cleared the latter immediately and posed a convincing explanation—and from their expressions were understanding and acceptance, which meant that I was successful in my persuasion.

My next stop was a Hot Spring inn. Rather costly, but the food and bath is great so I had no complaint. To provide for myself, I have started selling Japanese snacks that I personally baked. Those who have tasted it came back for more, therefore by the end of the day, all that I have made were sold-out.

When I gathered enough finances to live for some amount of time without worrying about money at all, I decided that the Hot Spring Inn would be the perfect place. My decision was proved to be correct after two hours of stay. The staffs were friendly, and conversing with them lifted a portion of my boredom.

By the second day, students from Tokyo lodged in on the said inn for their trip, and the halls were rowdy with teenage voices. Other people had even mistaken me to be one of the students and asked me what school I am from, and I shook my head, saying that I am not one of the students.

The students, in particular, often strike a conversation with me and I found myself not minding at all. Mostly, it was all about asking for directions, and sometimes, it drags on.  
  
It was purely by chance that on that humid night, I opted to walk around the surrounding forest. The night within a forest had the most serene and pure cold breeze that could soothe me much better than a hot spring, and I craved for that.

I then heard a large thud—the ruffling of countless of leaves being pushed down by a weight, and the furious pained whisper that followed. My hearing sense was enhanced, therefore,I was able to know that it was from a distance.

I tracked the source, and found myself standing by the edge of a not-too deep cliff, staring down at the source, in which appears to be a bundle of red fluffy hair, with its hands curled to its left foot and trembling. _Definitely a person. It seemed to be wearing the inn's yukata. Is it one of the students?_

I could hear how it sobbed, and basing by the voice it gave off, it was a female. A female _student._

"W-Why is this happening? Mama and Papa will get angry again. They'll scold me for doing something stupid again… Even though what I'm doing isn't stupid…I-I'm sure there's lots of good tree spirits here too…" She was mumbling to herself with a shaky tone. Tree spirits, huh?

The girl then started to call out to the tree spirits for help. After half an hour of observing her, she started to call out to humans, and I silently leaped to the side of the cliff, and fell gracefully to my foot bushes away from her.

I then made my appearance, and her apparent reddish brown eyes owlishly stared at me. I made her believe that I heard her voice and came running afterwards, and by the moment, she erupted and cried violently, rubbing furiously at her eyes, her breath hitching as if her lungs were uncertain about giving her the right supply of air.

I lifted one of her arms and guided her out of the forest. She was still tearful; her cheeks flushed red, most probably embarrassed by her condition. From her fair skin, to how she called her parents, I could only guess that she was a daughter of a rich family.

When we returned to the inn, the whole building was in frenzy. It appeared that her friends noticed her absence, and confirming that she was gone, they told the teachers. The teachers and the staffs, along with some police then started to search for the missing girl, who was in the forest, blindly trying to find tree spirits.

"May I know your name? You saved me after all. Oh, my name is Matsuzaki Ayako…" She introduced herself after the police was done questioning her. I gave her a smile, and then gave the fake identity that I inputted on the inn's list of costumers.

When she was about to retreat and call it a day by going to her room, I called out her name, and she responded by turning towards me with a perplexed look.

"Tree spirits can only be found within the living trees. The living trees are those old and big ones that you see far from the city—uncontaminated and pure. " I then smiled, "Remote shrines usually have those trees."

Her countenance was a mixture of astonishment and mortification, possibly thinking why I know where the tree spirits reside and the fact that I knew that she was looking for them.

I giggled and entered the forest again. This time, I never came back.

* * *

**viii.** **眠り**  
_"Life is one long process of getting tired."_

I plodded towards a shrine seated at the heart of a rocky mountain with an extensive sea of trees and enigmatic creatures.

After climbing up the long cemented stairs and arriving in front of the _torii_ , the entrance of the shrine burst open because of a gale that swept everything in its way. I could feel it surge and creep into my body, seemingly trying to assess me, and after a few seconds, a tornado-esque burst and took shape in between the distance of the _torii_ and the shrine, forming into a tall man with dark slick long hair and a dark yukata to pair it off.

I know that he would be taken aback. It had been a few centuries since I made a home of the shrine, which in my notion as of now, is currently abandoned. There had been a village outside the shrine, and its people worshiped the fox goddess that resided within the said holy ground.

"H-How—Why are you—" The man, a shikigami of the fox god blessed with the name 'Teu', started, extremely confused. I only gave him an omniscient smile and told the fox goddess to get out unless she didn't want her shrine to be burnt to the ground.

True to my expectations, the fox goddess appeared with a flurry of fresh leaves—small and lithe physique, white long hair that reached her ankles, shrine maiden's robes, and a pair of absolutely white ears that stuck in her head. Her expression was like Teu's. She was as baffled as him.

"You have the same smell. Are you her descendant? Or—or…" She trailed, her lips trembled. I shook my head to disagree, "No, Inehaki-sama, It is I—all in flesh, still stuck in the realm of the humans."

"B-But, it has been eight centuries! H-How can you be still—" Her voice broke. She was still a child fox goddess when I stayed on the shrine—vulnerable, easily swayed. I was thinking that she might have changed at all, but she didn't. She wasn't as mature, as forlorn, and as lonely as I had expected her to be.

It was the first time that I contacted a former acquaintance. But it was fine. She may die early than I am, but it's fine. Her life span is longer than a human's, that's why, I…

"Four years. Inehaki-sama, please let me sleep in your humble abode for four years."

I could feel the heavy lids of my eyes trying to shut off the world, my muscles a lump of heavy mass that drags me down to the ground. Even I am not as invincible as anyone would think I would be. Hundreds of years of being awake puts a toll on my body, and I would regularly slumber for two to three years. It was the same amount this time, but I wanted to spend a whole one year with my former family before leaving.

I considered being refused flatly, but never had I considered that the fox goddess would ram her body into mine, sending us stumbling on the ground, and hug me tightly like If she doesn't, I would fade away just like they thought I did before.

She didn't ask, she just hugged me with tears streaming from her eyes, brows furrowing, and aggressively nodding off, "You can stay, please stay. This shrine will be here for you every time. Please, _please_ , stay."

I chuckled lightly, and I could feel my consciousness drift away. I managed to pat her on the head before my hand limped and dropped by my side, "Bonum nocte," I breathed, "Let's play a lot when I wake up."

And I then plunged into the abyss of darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> I've already posted this on ff.net. But I hope that you liked it. :)


End file.
